


Australis

by seven (sevenpoints)



Series: Urban + Bana = BANANA [1]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: BDSM, CBT, M/M, Rape Fantasy, Roleplay, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenpoints/pseuds/seven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karl Urban had a scene in The Truth About Demons where he was collared and chained to the floor. I decided this was a really good look for him. Established Bana/Urban.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Australis

The weight around his neck was the first clue that something was wrong.

 

The fact that he was wearing a straitjacket was the second.

 

The fact that he was nude from the waist down—!

 

Karl’s eyes flashed open as he sprung up to his knees to stare at the chain hanging down from his neck: polished steel, too thick to break and bolted securely to the cement floor.  A weight at his collarbone felt like a padlock, clamped firmly to the softness of a thick leather collar.  With his arms bound across his chest he couldn’t possibly break loose without also snapping his neck, and as his helplessness set in he felt fury swell in the pit of his gut.

 

The fury burst from his lips in a roar as he raged against the jacket, trying desperately to pull his arms free and chewing at whatever straps he could reach, but the heavy material held him like an unwanted embrace and all he could do was panic, adrenaline rushing through his veins like a drug.

 

Frustration barked out of him in a series of panting grunts that choked off instantly at the sound of approaching footfalls.  He retreated as far away from the door as he could, hating the chain that forced him to cower, telling himself that that was the reason he curled in on himself.

 

The door swung open almost jauntily, if that was possible, to reveal a man clad in a black shirt and trousers who smiled at him indulgently.  Bright black eyes smiled at him from beneath a mop of waves and Karl hated himself for seeing that this man, his captor, was beautiful.

 

“About time,” the man remarked, his voice surprisingly soft.  “I was beginning to think you weren’t ever going to wake.”

 

Karl didn’t want to notice the way the breadth of his shoulders tapered to neat, narrow hips, nor the veins that stood out clear and strong on his hairy forearms as he cuffed his sleeves, but of course the man meant for him to notice these things, just as his pacing was meant to show Karl the length of his powerful thighs and the high, firm curve of that perfect ass.  “What do you want with me?”

 

“Oh, I just want _you_ , Karl.  You’ve been calling attention to yourself, whether you know it or not.”  He crouched down to meet Karl’s eyes, and Karl had to resist the urge to throw himself at the man and tear his face open with his teeth.

 

“Who the hell are you?” he snarled, barely managing to keep his voice steady.

 

The man smiled.  “How rude of me.  I’m Eric.  I’ve been watching you for a long time, Karl.”

 

“Fuck you!”

 

“Those antics you pull for the fans, flashing your skin, fellating microphones, even the roles you take: you’ve been absolutely begging for the right man to make a boy out of you.”

 

“Go to hell!  I didn’t ask for this, you sick fuck, now let me go!”

 

He resumed his struggles against the jacket, but was stilled by a hand on his shoulder, that simple touch making him stutter with fear.  “Shhh shh, Karl.  You know you can’t get free.”  He bit his lip and wanted to look away, but the man—Eric—held his gaze with his black, black eyes.  “You can’t get free unless I _set_ you free, and I won’t do that unless you’re a very, very good boy.  Do you understand?”

 

He wanted to say no.  He wanted, in fact, to tell this guy he could go fuck a rake, but the helplessness of his situation made him choke out an affirmative “Yes.”

 

Eric smiled at him warmly.  “Yes, _sir_ ,” he corrected.

 

Karl pursed his lips and glared, nostrils flaring, but the other man only shrugged and stood.  “That’s fine.  I’ll ask again in a day or two.  Maybe by that point you’ll be hungry enough to cooperate.”

 

Fuck.  “Wait.”  Pride wrestled with desperation, and the latter won.  “Sir.”

 

“Get on your knees, and put your face on the floor.”

 

God damn it.  “Please…”

 

“Do not make me repeat myself, boy.”

 

“Is there anything I can do—”

 

“The sooner you obey me, the sooner this will all be over.”

 

Not good enough.  “You’ll let me go, then…” he couldn’t help the pause “…sir?”

 

Eric smiled at him again, sickly sweet as though Karl were a very simple child.  “Of course, Karl.  Once you’ve given me everything I want from you, you’ll be free to go.”  The smile twisted into a dangerous smirk.  “Now do as I say.”

 

Karl was shocked.  Not at the command; when he’d found himself bound and naked, he kind of had an idea of where this was gonna go.  What was shocking was the fact that somewhere buried under the rage and the fear was the desire to…no, that was insane.  He’d do what the man wanted, but only because he didn’t have a choice.

 

Moving as slowly as he thought the man would allow, he rose to his knees, flinching hard when Eric touched his shoulder to draw him into the center of the room, away from his more sheltered corner.  He flushed miserably as he bent forward, grateful to hide his face a he exposed his backside to the man’s appraising eye and wandering hands.

 

“This is a very good position for you, Karl.  I want you to stay this way while I go get you something to help you hold this pose.”

 

A baited moment, then Karl remembered.  “Yes, sir.”

 

“Good boy.”

 

As soon as the man left, Karl wanted to vomit.  This was the most degrading experience of his life, and he didn’t want to imagine anything that would top it in the future.  Adrenaline still coursed through his blood to set his temples twitching, his jaw clenching.

 

His cock hardening.

 

He stared at himself, or at least what he could see past his arms and the hanging straps of the jacket.  It made no sense and it disgusted him, because how could he want this?

 

Eric returned before he could make any sense of it, and Karl had to concentrate on not looking up to see what he was carrying.  It turned out he didn’t need to: Eric explained.

 

“This is called a humbler.”  He crouched again to dangle the contraption in Karl’s face and Karl couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was for: a length of wood with a double arch like a recurve bow, with a very short chain in the middle that attached it to two leather cuffs.

 

“The two cuffs will go around your cock and balls, the chain goes between your legs and the bar will rest against the backs of your thighs.  If you attempt to stand or even move, you’ll rip yourself apart.”

 

Cold sweat broke out over Karl’s skin at his words.  Pride be damned; he was gonna beg.  “Please s-sir, please I swear I won’t move, really, no no no—fuck!”

 

It was no use; Eric’s hands were reaching for him, fondling his cock when he found it half-hard, and then the cuffs were cinched around him.  He barely swallowed his whimper when Eric pulled the device between his thighs to settle the bar in place—the gentle tug on his genitals was hideously ominous, and an involuntary jerk made him gasp in sudden pain.

 

“I think you understand the principle now, Karl.  Incidentally, the leather of the cuffs will shrink as it gets wet, so I wouldn’t sweat too much if you can avoid it, at least not before we really get started.”  As if he could.

 

Hands over his ass, stroking him in gentle counterpoint to the pressure around his cock and balls.  “Now, then.  I have to admit, Karl, I’m almost overwhelmed at the possibilities here.”  One finger trailed into his crease to trail over his hole and it took every scrap of control he had not to jerk again at the ticklish touch.  “I mean, obviously, I have to fuck you, but there are so many other things I could do with you in this position.”  The finger circled his opening, then trailed lower to brush over his testicles.  “ _So many ways I could hurt you_.”

 

+++

 

As Karl knelt there, doing his best not to writhe under the man’s attentions, all he could think about was what he would do if he ever got free of this hell.  It started with cutting Eric’s skull open and crushing the evil mind that had brought him here.

 

In the harshness of reality, all he could do was try to keep still under the ice, a huge chunk of it tracing patterns over his skin, chilling his sweat and sending streams of water to soak into the leather around his genitals and mingle with the precum dripping out of the erection he couldn’t deny.  More melted ice trickled down his back to soak into the jacket, an itchy, clinging torment that gritted at the back of his mind, the way the cement floor gritted into his knees where they knelt in softening puddles.  Cold, so cold it hurt, the dull ache pulling up sharp and harsh when Eric blew over him gently and chuckled at his groan.

 

“You look lovely like this, Karl, with your ass all shiny and red like polished fruit.  Thousands of people have fantasized about touching you, bending you over and just _touching_ you, like I am right now, and none of them will ever know the softness of your skin, or the way you shudder when you’re hurt.”  A vicious pinch on over-sensitized skin made him squirm and choke on a cry, desperate to avoid the pain and keep still all at once.

 

“Cold, are you?”

 

Bastard.  “Yes,” he bit out.  “ _Sir_.”

 

A sharp smack rocked him forward and he shouted at the tug on his cock and balls, then fire exploded over his backside.  He almost tore himself apart in his panic to see whether or not Eric had opened up a fucking flamethrower on him.

 

Instead, the only flame he saw was tiny and dancing on the wick of a white pillar candle.  Eric grinned in its flickering light.  “Intense, isn’t it?  Feels like I’m branding you with hot coals.”  He tipped the candle again to demonstrate, the white wax pouring like waves of flame over his icy skin and FUCK Karl wanted to fight him, wanted to pour hot wax in his eyes but all he could do was grip his own sides through the jacket.  The heat wrestled with the cold and Karl lost: all the stimulation was singing through his nerves and sending brilliant sparks of lust right down to his cock where they sizzled behind the cock rings until he was burning, inside and out.

 

“Stop, stop!”

 

“Too hot?”

 

“ _Yes,_ god damn it!  Puh…please, _shit_ , please…sir.”

 

“There there.”  The ice returned again, doing nothing to soothe his burns as it bit at him.  Eric trailed it lower, down the backs of his flinching thighs, up over his calves and down to the soles of his feet, snickering when his toes curled against the cold.  Karl tried to brace himself for what was coming but the wax still hit him like molten lead, white-hot and clinging, painted over his skin in indelible fire and in that heat, that burning pain, Karl could feel himself breaking, his control cracking up into shivering shards.

 

When fire bloomed, right against his opening, it was the final straw.  His mind blanked and he panicked, eyes flaring wide as he cast about for the word, the magical word that would put an end to this torture. 

 

A desperate mental grope and he had it.  “ _Australis!_   Australis, australis, Eric, _please_.”

 

The other man froze behind him at the safeword, then immediately began unfastening his bonds with chilly fingers.  “Shit, Karl, did I do something wrong?”

 

“No, no, it’s just…”  Words escaped him again and all he could do was shudder in relief as Eric slipped off the humbler and pulled him up into his arms, cooled wax breaking off him in flakes as he did.

 

“It’s all right.  Easy, Karl, it’s all right.”

 

“I’m sorry—”

 

“Don’t be.  You don’t have to be, I pushed you too far.”

 

“But I _wanted…_ ”

 

“We don’t always want what’s good for us, Karl.  I’m proud of you for stopping me.  Really.”  Eric had been unbuckling the straitjacket as he held him and Karl clung to him as soon as his arms were free, hands lost inside the long sleeves like a child’s in his father’s shirt.  “That’s my boy.”

 

“Fuck.  I’m sorry, Eric, I thought I wanted this, but I don’t.”  He head butted the other man on the chin, making him snicker.  “Thanks for trying.”

 

“No trouble at all.  Really.”  He soothed his hands down Karl’s back.  “Maybe without the role play next time?”

 

“Yeah.  I dunno.  I did the film and kind of liked the idea of victimization, but somehow, not as fun as it looks.”

 

“The other stuff, though.  Was it too much pain?”

 

Karl laughed.  “Umm, _no_.” He rocked his hips to nudge Eric with his erection, provoking a groan.  “The pain was just fine, I just…I can’t call you ‘sir.’”

 

Eric sighed, sounding terribly put upon.  “Oh, _fine_.  I should have guessed you’d never be able to submit.”  He kissed the Kiwi, nice and slow, then broke off to murmur against his lips.  “It’s just not in your nature.”

 

“Mmmm guilty.”  Karl kissed him again, then bit his tongue, hard.  “I can think of a few other ways to pass the time, though.”  He rocked his hips again, the head of his cock butting and sliding against the hardness trapped inside Eric’s pants.  “I mean, while you’ve got me all trussed up and helpless and all.”

 

Eric feigned horror.  “But—Karl!  After what I almost did to you!”  The fact that he was stripping off his shirt completely belied his words.  “Isn’t this the part where I sweep you into my arms and make love to you on a bed of eiderdown?”

 

Karl snorted.  “As if you could carry me.”  He snatched Eric’s shirt away and spread it on the floor so he could sit without scraping his skin raw.  He left the jacket on for the same reason and lay back, pillowing his head on one hand as he watched Eric drizzle lube into his palm.  His other hand reached down to fondle himself through the sleeve of the straitjacket and fuck, that was more than a little kinky, and definitely more than a little hot.

 

The fact that he was still chained to the floor didn’t hurt either.

 

“Come on, Bana,” he whispered.  “Give it me good.”

 

“Jesus, Karl.”  His fingers painted a wet stripe over the Kiwi’s ass, still cool from the chunk of ice melting forlornly in a corner.  “You look like something out of a slasher film.  Where the fuck did you get that jacket?”

 

“Called up an old friend from WETA.  There’s still more than one costume girl with a wide-on for Eomer.”

 

They chuckled, then hissed in unison when Eric pressed two fingers into Karl’s tight, clenching heat.  “Damn it, you need to relax, ‘cause I can’t wait much longer.”

 

“Then don’t.  Come on.”

 

“You need more prep.”  He scissored his fingers, cursing at Karl’s tightness.

 

“No, I don’t!  Come on!”  Strong legs hooked around Eric’s waist and pulled him forward to collapse on top of him, and Karl groaned in irritation when he realized the Aussie was still wearing his fucking pants.  “God damn it, Eric, fuck me already!”

 

“If you would give me five seconds, Urban!”  Eric wrestled Karl’s hands off him and knelt up.  “Why the fuck did I wear a belt?  Jesus shit!”  The buckle proved too annoying to bother and he simply ripped the leather open, to Karl’s vociferous approval.  The fly of his trousers suffered a similar fate before he yanked his cock out.

 

There was a fierce scuffle as he struggled to slick on more lube and Karl struggled to get his cock in his ass _now_ , and then he was lining up and sliding home in a single sharp thrust.

 

“FUCK” burst out of both men simultaneously, swiftly followed by a storm of grunts and swearing.  Karl scrabbled to grip Eric’s shoulders, cursing at the fucking sleeves.  He blundered, trying to push them up and free his hands, then roared in frustration when a series of sharp jabs to his prostate left him clumsy and more frantic than ever.

 

“ _Yes_ , fuck, you look so fucking hot like this.”  Eric clawed at the collar of the jacket to suck a huge love bite over Karl’s collarbone, then pulled back and seized the chain.  Wrapping it around his fist he _yanked_ Karl up off the floor, and kept pulling until he was sitting up with Karl straddling him, long bare legs wrapped around his waist.  Karl planted his feet and bounced, riding Eric as hard as he could and reveling in the way the padlock thumped over his heart.  Hazel eyes locked onto deepest brown as they rutted, both of them panting around open-mouthed grins, the chain rattling in the background like something out of a horror film

 

“So fucked up,” Eric panted.  “Seriously— _fuck!_!”  A twist of Karl’s hips made him lose his train of thought.  “Do that again!”

 

“This?”  Karl repeated the squirming motion, gyrating madly before wrapping his arms around Eric’s neck and pulling him forward to suck and lick and bite at his mouth in a violent approximation of a kiss and shit, that was too much, bright copper on both their screaming tongues as they shot hard in unison.

 

They collapsed sideways, Eric grunting and swooning a little when his head rang against the floor, Karl wincing when the leg trapped under Eric ground hard against it too.  “Whose idea was it to do this in your fucking garage?”

 

Eric heaved a long-suffering sigh.  “Yours, idiot, all of this was your idea.  Fuck, my head.”

 

Karl flapped a dismissive sleeve at him.  “Give us a sec, love.  A man needs to recharge.”

 

“Jackass.”  They panted, and Karl craned to stretch his neck inside the collar.

 

“All right, fun’s over, get me out of this thing.”

 

“Oh, right.  Shit, lemme go get the bolt cutters.”

 

Karl froze, then gripped Eric’s trouser leg.  “You don’t have a key?”

 

“Um.”  Eric fought a grin, then stumbled back quickly as Karl lurched forward to give him a charlie horse.   
  
  
  
The big Kiwi scowled at him from the end of his tether.  “You mother fucker!  I can’t believe you locked me up without a key!”

 

“I knew I had bolt cutters!  Calm down you big baby!”  He left Karl muttering darkly as he headed out to the tool shed, musing about leaving his lover there, collared and chained to the floor.

 

Fuck, but it was tempting.

**Author's Note:**

> [This](http://www.thekinkypixie.com/images/humbler_cherry1.jpg) is a traditional humbler. The man’s testicles go through the hole in the middle, which is too much OUCH even for me, so I modified it for the purposes of my fic. You can also assume that mine is more gracefully made and not shit-brown.


End file.
